


Taking Possession of a Mistletoe

by Kasen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Mistletoe, Possessive Behavior, Shiro owes her his life, Veronica meddles but in a helpful way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasen/pseuds/Kasen
Summary: After fighting Sendak and reclaiming Earth, Shiro spends quite a bit of time in the Atlas. The ship is huge. It is meant to house the Lions and several others. They have their own rooms, untouched but ready to be used once the ship is airborne. Until then, the Atlas is open for the public. Anyone can come and go as they please. Even if it starts to irk Shiro.





	Taking Possession of a Mistletoe

Shiro’s biting the corner of thumb nail, nervous and uncertain as he eyes the mistletoe Lance hangs up at the entrance of the Atlas’ main deck and command center. The area was bustling with people. People of all shapes and sizes often came into the Atlas to speak with either Shiro himself, or one of his commanding officers. Sam Holt was a popular individual to approach, as was Veronica, and to no one’s surprise, Iverson. Older students needing one’s guidance, technical engineers, aerospace program management, Voltron coalition leaders; you name it and they were coming into the Atlas’ bridge. Shiro knew this would change once they departed from Earth. Preparations were underway, but they were slow. Earth had only started recovering from the Galran takeover. Other nations needed their guidance. 

And for _some_ reason, they chose to get guidance in the one place Shiro often found Keith standing at. 

Shiro switched from biting his nail to rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Keith loved standing at that entrance. It was busy, but people never pushed or shoved as they squeezed by. Shiro often caught Keith watching him intently, a small grin on his handsome features when Shiro turned to give him a wry smile. Usually he was waiting for Shiro. Whether it be instructions for the Paladins, or to join him in an upcoming meeting; whatever the reason might be, Keith always stood _there._ He stood right behind Shiro at the entrance of the bridge, arms crossed over his chest and ankles crossed as well. He had his lean down to a science. He took enough space that it was obvious he was there —and planning to _stay_ there, while being tucked enough against the wall of the entrance that no one paid him any mind. It was just Keith waiting for their captain, nothing special.

Until now. Until Lance decided to make it special. Shiro glared daggers at Veronica when her little brother showed up out of the blue with holiday decorations. She claimed he always did this. He always ran around putting up wreaths and tinsel and lights around their quarters as they neared the holidays. Shiro wanted to call her out on her bullshit. He wanted to remind Veronica that Lance did no such thing the year prior when they were together, but he held his tongue, knowing that Lance would argue that he lost track of time in space, and maybe that the evil empire trying to kill them ruined the mood a little.

“Andddd, there!” Lance took a step back to grin at his handiwork. The mistletoe was up.

Shiro was fucked.

***

Shiro was a possessive piner. He knew he had feelings for Keith. He knew he would rather die than risk ruining the friendship they had. And he _knew_ he would go out of his way to ensure that no one else successfully flirted with the guy he liked.

_I’m seriously fucked._

He never meant to be possessive. It just sort of happened on its own. In one moment, he’s fine. A swell of pride warms his chest when others report to Keith like the true leader he was meant to be. And then that pride is quickly enveloped by some else. An uncomfortable heat and churning that makes his muscles tense and teeth clench. The feeling drove him forward. It made his arm move on its own and his palm steer its way onto Keith’s shoulder. Shiro acted as a physical barrier between Keith and whoever was getting too close —too touchy. He hadn’t realized his actions until Veronica called him out on it. In retrospect, it was obvious, but when Lance’s sister spoke to him about the wry looks and hushed complaints the democrats and coalition leaders exchanged to each other, Shiro didn’t believe her. He argued that he was his usual self around Keith. It took Veronica pulling video footage from their security systems, both in the Atlas and on Garrison grounds for Shiro to realize two very important things. One was that he liked Keith and was possessive of him. The second was that Veronica was resourceful, terrifying, and not to be fucked with.

“You look preoccupied, Captain.”

Shiro gave Veronica a look. She had been the one the encourage Lance to place a mistletoe at the doorway. Was this some sort of soap opera to her?

“I’m _fine,”_ Shiro said through gritted teeth. 

“Good, because you have company.”

Shiro whipped around, expecting to see Keith standing behind him. Instead, a group of Garrison cadets peered into the door, looking lost and uncertain. Shiro’s shoulders drooped in relief. 

“Are you looking for Commander Iverson?”

The students shook their head. One stepped forward to speak with Shiro. 

“Admiral Shirogane, have you seen Keith?”

“Keith? W—” Shiro cleared his throat at the sound of Veronica’s snickering. “Why are you looking for him?”

“He promised he would teach us some combat moves in the training deck.”

_Of course he did._

“Keith’s a busy man. If he promised you his time, he’ll make good of it. You shouldn’t search for him.”

It came out harsher than he meant it to be. Shiro felt bad at how a few of the cadets shrunk back at his words.

“I’ll let him know you’re excited to train with him,” he added with a soft smile. The students nodded and thanked him while backing out of the mail hull. Shiro sighed at his open-door policy. He didn’t want anyone to feel unwelcomed in the Atlas. It was a massive ship, meant to house hundreds. If people wanted to explore it, then by all means. It wasn’t Shiro’s ship to claim. Sam Holt and his team (consisting almost entirely of Garrison staff and students) put the ship together, and they deserved access to it. 

_“Was that a mistletoe?”_

Shiro jolted at the question.

_“Oh my God it was.”_

_“Sally let’s go back.”_

_“_ _Ew_ _! Shut up,”_ came a laugh. Several were laughing. The cadets had caught the mistletoe. That news was going to spread, and it was going to spread quick. 

_Shit._

***

Shiro wanted to die. The amount of times he had to intercept a person from standing too long in the doorway next to Keith was insurmountable. And it didn’t matter how many times he angrily tore the stupid mistletoe down when no one was looking. Someone always put it back up. 

The news of its existence spread like wildfire. Some people showed up just to stare. Several stood together under the mistletoe with the intention of kissing. It became a couple’s hot spot. Pictures were taken, friends teased each other, several tried to flirt with Keith.

“Why don’t we pass some time while you wait for your Captain?”

Shiro clenched his teeth, fingers digging into his dashboard. He was stuck in a simulation using the Atlas’ front screens to assist Sam with a demonstration of its capabilities. Krolia had recruited and sent several new Blade of Marmora members to Shiro, asking that he and his team show the mechanics of the ship, and provide each member with the knowledge they needed to understand its capabilities. As part of her training, her team needed to know in great detail how the Atlas worked in order to successfully complete the simulations she had prepared back at their base. If it was for anyone else, Shiro would have done a half-assed job. But Krolia was Krolia. He love and respected her beyond reason. With that in mind, Shiro bit the bullet and continued with his teachings.

“Inside the Atlas is an energy source created by the crushed mass of our original Atlas —if you will— The Castle of Lions. Because of my arm, and the Altean crystal Princess Allura graciously provided, I am able to control the Atlas through my mind, using this arm as a connection with the hull.”

Shiro presented as such, the Marmoran’s silently looking on, absorbing everything he said and did like a sponge.

“What do you mean?” Keith asked through Shiro’s little speech. His voice was respectfully low. He was waiting for Shiro for reasons Shiro did not know of. Usually, Shiro was aware of when he had an upcoming meeting that Keith was a part of. Today, however, he had nothing following his Blades briefing, so why was Keith waiting for him?

“I mean, he’s busy. I’m not. Let’s —”

The man went quiet. Shiro couldn’t help himself. He turned in time to see the other pointing at the mistletoe above them. Keith was looking up at it as well, mouth parted in a small “o” as he realized what he had been standing under. 

And then Shiro moved. 

Without thinking, Shiro’s arm launched forward. He wanted to shove the guy away from Keith and out of his command center. He also wanted to drag him by his collar until they were inches apart so he could tell him to never look in Keith’s general direction ever again. Catching himself, Shiro did neither. At the very last second, his prosthetic lurched upwards and snatched the mistletoe with vigor. He ripped it off the ceiling of the doorway and made an effort to pull it back towards himself without crushing it into dust.

The man flirting with Keith looked terrified, and to Shiro’s disdain, he realized that it was a rather important figure he had quietly snapped at. One of the rebel leaders. A friend of Matt’s. 

_Shit._

Shiro realized too late that his actions were blatantly rude and commanding. To those unaware, he had snapped at the disruption during his consultation with the Blades. To those who knew his obvious secret, like Sam Holt, who was currently regarding Shiro with a single raised eyebrow and a grin hidden behind his thick facial hair, Shiro was jealous that someone was flirting with Keith. 

“Apologies,” Shiro started, looking to the rebel leader for forgiveness. Shiro couldn’t risk glancing at Keith. He was terrified to see the kind of expression his friend was making in response to his unwarranted outburst. “I...”

_I don’t know what’s gotten into me._

Shiro wanted to say it, but it was a lie and he knew it. Shiro understood damn well where his actions had sprung from, and he knew damn well that he would do it again under similar circumstances.

“I’ll see myself out,” the rebel leader said with an apologetic bow of his head. “My apologies for interrupting your briefing.” 

Shiro could only nod politely in response.

“Keith, care to join me on a small walk?”

Shiro clenched his fist —the only holding the mistletoe— and winced at the sound of plastic crunching beneath his grip. 

“I’m happy waiting for Shiro here, thank you.”

Shiro’s inner self pumped his fist in victory. 

“Alright then. See you.”

“Bye,” Keith nodded. Shiro turned back around before Keith could glance at him. He apologized to the Blade members waiting for him to continue his briefing, and did his best to continue his day like nothing had happened.

***

Shiro didn’t look back as he allowed Sam to wrap up with the Blades. When they were done, each shook Shiro’s arm in their usual Galran fashion, and Shiro heard the members greet and bid farewell to Keith at the door upon their exit. Sam gave Shiro one last knowing look before making his exit as well, silently telling Shiro to wrap things up so they could safely secure the Atlas for the night.

Shiro took a moment to shut down his computers. It didn’t need to take long, but he drew out the process for as long as he could before Keith coughed behind him, pulling his attention away from his screens.

“Sorry,” Shiro automatically said in Keith’s general direction. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“It’s fine,” Keith smiled. Shiro’s heart melted at the sight. Keith was doing his usual, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, a handsome smile highlighting his attractive features. Where Keith’s appearance was isolating and brooding in the past was replaced with confidence and something far more inviting. He had matured exceptionally over his time in space, and all that he learned was reflected in something as simple as his stance. Shiro felt like putty beneath his feet.

Keith’s eyes left Shiro’s to stare at his hand. Shiro unwittingly followed his gaze and internally winced at the fake mistletoe still crumbled in his bionic grasp.

“You really did a number on that thing,” Keith commented. Shiro’s face seared at the comment. How was he going to explain this?

“I don’t know what came over me,” Shiro lied. It was the easiest thing to say. He had nothing better to fall back on.

“Well, should we put it back up?”

“Huh?”

Keith pointed to the space above him. “We should fix it, right?”

_We?!_

“R-right,” Shiro croaked. He walked towards Keith, heart pounding loudly against his ribs, mistletoe still crushed between his fingers.

“I’ve never seen you snap like that before,” Keith commented evenly. He opened his palms, inviting Shiro’s hand in his. Shiro blinked as he complied to Keith’s silent instruction. Shiro held his breath as Keith turned his palm upward and uncurled Shiro’s clenched fist one digit at a time. Keith was slow and deliberate with his movements. His fingers were long and boney, with small scars peppered throughout. They were attractive fingers —far more boyish than someone with a face as pretty as Keith’s seemed like they should be. Shiro wondered how it would feel if those fingers intertwined with his. Were the pads as calloused as Shiro’s? Did the soft skin face wear and tear so great from their battles that a layer of hardness covered each digit? 

Shiro stared sadly at the hands now unfolding the battered mistletoe, trying to refigure it to its original shape. He would never know what those hands felt like in an intimate setting. He could maybe steal a touch here or there, but nothing lasting. Nothing that would satisfy the yearning he felt.

“There. That’s... about as good as it’ll get.”

Shiro sighed sadly. “I was a real jerk.”

“Not really. That guy was annoying.”

Shiro smiled sadly at Keith. Although he appreciated Keith’s lack of interest in the rebel leader, it didn’t excuse his actions.

“I shouldn’t have acted like that."

“Is it wrong if I say I’m glad you did?”

“You are?”

“Well yeah. I’m not... interested in that kind of crap. Not with complete strangers.”

“Oh?” Shiro squawked. He cleared his throat, hoping Keith would elaborate without prompting from him.

“If I ever... you know, want to be with someone, it’s going to be someone I know. Someone I’ve known for a long time and like.”

Shiro nodded. “I feel the same,” he admitted. Saying at least this much was safe, right? “I prefer if we started as friends —my uhh... potential love-interest, I mean.”

_Smooth, Takashi._

Keith smiled at him, and Shiro swore he almost lost it just then. His muscles twitched beneath his skin, prompting him to lurch forward and press his lips against Keith’s.

“You should hang this up,” Keith said as he guided the looped handle of the mistletoe in between Shiro’s fingers. He placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder and pushed him back so that he lined up with the little hook hammered into the ceiling of the doorway, and Shiro took a mental note of ensuring the nail’s removal before the Atlas took flight and the door needed to function as a sliding one rather than always open. “You might have to loop it around a few times for it to stay.”

Shiro raised his bionic arm until it was within reach of the hook. He hooked the mistletoe easily, but struggled securing the loop around it a second and third time. His bionic hand was too big for a task as delicate as hanging up a tiny decoration, but Keith’s palm was firm on Shiro’s shoulder, seemingly refusing to let go until he fixed what he damaged.

“I should have just made you stand on my shoulders,” Shiro commented after a minute, hoping to fill in the silence between them with some casual conversation.

“I’d break your back, old timer.”

Shiro snapped his head down to look at Keith, who was smirking at him in jest.

“You’ve gotten too cheeky,” Shiro grumbled in return. After a moment of hesitation, Shiro reached up to pinch Keith’s cheek, wiping the smile off Keith’s face. The two stared at each other, and for the first time in his life, Shiro didn’t try to pull away. He _couldn’t_ pull away. Keith’s grip on his shoulder was vigorous. His eyes bore into Shiro’s, intense. Shiro had removed his fingers from Keith’s cheek after a beat, only to bring it back, palm flat over the glaring scar he had created.

“Keith?”

Keith tilted his head to the size, pressing his face further against Shiro’s hand. Shiro’s heart flipped several times at the gesture. Keith was so warm in his palm. His face was smooth and unblemished save for his scar. His lips were no longer pressed in a flat line, but rather curling up at the corners. They looked incredibly inviting. Shiro couldn’t pull his gaze away. 

“Can I kiss you?”

“It’s not like you’d let anyone else do it.”

Shiro ducked his head low in shame. Keith knew. It was obvious, of course, but part of Shiro prayed Keith’s ignorance wasn’t feigned. Part of him hoped Keith truly didn’t noticed his jealous tendencies. But with that came relief and excitement as well. Keith _knew._ Keith didn’t shy away from his touch. Keith asked Shiro to replace the mistletoe above them. Keith wanted this just as much as Shiro.

“Is that a no?” Shiro asked instead, just to be safe.

“Shiro... if you don’t kiss me right n—”

Shiro lurched forward without warning. He released the mistletoe above them so he could guide his bionic arm to Keith’s hip. The reaction his touch elicited was starling. Keith’s hips jerked forward and a small moan escaped the back of his throat. Shiro pulled back, wide-eyed and a little breathless. 

“Wow,” he said against Keith’s lips. “Are you ticklish there?”

“No,” Keith countered with a pout. Shiro shook his head, astonished, fighting the urge to bite those lips until they turned slick and swollen. Instead, Shiro lowered his hand from Keith’s cheek to his waist, and pulled him close. Keith gasped at the sudden contact, and both hands now tightly grasped Shiro’s collar. When they kissed again, it was far more intimate than the first. Shiro dragged his tongue between Keith’s lips, prompting it open and dragging another moan out of Keith. Fuck. _Fuck._ He was already addicted. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself now, nor in the near future. Keith was his.

Shiro deepened the kiss. He guided Keith through it, careful and slow with each drag of his tongue. He backed away every so often to let Keith breathe, only to pull him in again. Shiro wasn’t sure how long he kissed Keith. All he knew was that he was getting it out of his system, and he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied. 

He wouldn’t stop until Keith asked him to.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Keith never asked him to stop. They spend that night locked in the Atlas, making Shiro’s previously untouched bedroom their new home. 
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS ANDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I hope you have a very relaxing and fun holiday with your friends and family. Thank you for taking care of me this year. You are SO SWEET and full of love! You deserve nothing but happiness!!  
> SMOOCHES YOUR CHEEK ♥


End file.
